


The First Time We Spoke

by Treon



Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2018-02-25 03:03:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2606114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treon/pseuds/Treon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sara and Peter were at Neal's trial.  Set pre-series</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Time We Spoke

The judge banged his gavel. "Court is adjourned."  
  
United States v. Caffrey was officially over.  
  
"All rise!"  
  
Sara, standing next to Peter in the gallery, stared at the court in disgust. "This is ridiculous. There's no way he got acquitted of everything."  
  
"Not everything," Peter pointed out.  
  
"Oh, yeah. Bond forgery."  
  
"He's going to jail, and that's the main thing." Neal was still standing by the defendant's table, conferring with his lawyer. Peter wondered whether the kid had actually believed he could get away scot-free. He made a good showing of it during his trial, claiming throughout that he was being wrongly accused. He didn't seem so shocked at the verdict, but then, that was his specialty. Or maybe he hadn't had time to process the shock yet.  
  
"Peter," Sara intruded on his thoughts. "He'll be out before you know it, and I doubt he'll have learned his lesson. And he still has a multimillion dollar painting." She saw the bailiff starting to lead Neal out. "Excuse me."  
  
"Sara." He tried stopping her, but she wasn't listening.  
  
She hurried past Neal and stopped in front of the door leading out, blocking his way. "You're not going to get away with this."  
  
Neal smiled. "I think I already did."  
  
"The FBI might be off your tail, but I'm not going to rest until I get my painting back."  
  
Neal simply shrugged. "I'd suggest you let it go. I have no idea where your painting is."  
  
"You're lying."  
  
"You've heard the jury. I didn't steal any painting."  
  
The bailiff, having enough, held out a hand to ward her off. "Ma'am, you shouldn't be here."  
  
"Hold on." Sara turned back to Neal. "You might have managed to con the jury, Caffrey, you might have conned the judge, but you're not conning me."  
  
Neal's smile disappeared. "You think four years in jail is a con?"  
  
Sara took a step forward, well into Neal's personal space. "I think four years are too good for you. You're a sociopath-"  
  
"So you said."  
  
"-and you should be locked up for the good of humanity."  
  
"Over-stressing it a little?"  
  
"Come on." The bailiff pulled at Neal's arm. "Ma'am, would you please stand aside?"  
  
Neal gave an apologetic shrug, smile firmly back in place.  
  
Sara stepped out of the way, glaring at Neal's back as he was led away. With a huff, she turned back to the visitor's gallery.  
  
Peter stopped her on her way out. "The kid's going to jail, give him a break."  
  
"Give him a break?" Sara shot Peter a look. "You might be happy with this verdict, but I'm not. We shelled out 15 million for that painting." She turned to look back at the empty courthouse. "And who's going to compensate *us*?"  
  
Peter couldn't say he was happy with the verdict, but after three years of working on this case, he was happy to finally see it to its conclusion. The criminal was caught, sentenced and sent to jail, just as it should be.  
  
"At this point, I'd say you should write it off."  
  
"Never."  
  
Peter chuckled.  
  
"What?" Sara didn't see what's so funny.  
  
"Chasing Neal Caffrey. It was a fun ride."  
  
Sara turned to glare at him. "The 'ride' is not over."  
  
"My point exactly." 


End file.
